


Into the Woods

by Phoenicia



Series: Wolf Sousuke & Bunny Haru [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bunny Haru, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, wolf sousuke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenicia/pseuds/Phoenicia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a Japan where there are predators and prey, a bunny shops in the predator district. He should know better, but that's where the best mackerel is.</p>
<p>A little gift for Best Friends Day 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snarkyscorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyscorp/gifts).



> So this absolutely gorgeous and funny [translated SouHaru art](http://gdgdrs.tumblr.com/post/113810113972/this-was-cute-as-fuck-so-i-had-to-share-it-with) bounced across my tumblr dash a while ago. (Please visit the [original artist (も子)](http://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=49252925) on Pixiv and leave some love!) 
> 
> It captivated both of us, led to lots of headcanon gushing, and this little prequel demanded to be written. (This may become a small series since it tried to grow worldbuilding on me.)
> 
> Happy Best Friends Day, [darling!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyscorp/pseuds/snarkyscorp)

There are just some places a bunny shouldn’t shop, especially at night. I’ve been told that since I was old enough to go to the store. Predators are more active at night. Predators prowl the streets and back alleys, not only of their district but of ours.

Predators eat bunnies. 

My mother speaks those words to me yet again, kisses my forehead, and breezes out of our house. Both she and my father travel constantly and work in a bigger city, one with a much larger prey district than tiny Iwatobi. Japan is built on strict, rigid hierarchy, that of predator and prey being one of the foundations. It’s a given that predators will eat prey, if chance and opportunity arise, and there are few, if any, laws regarding punishment for it. Most, in the interest of civilization and harmony, repress the urge to devour us - we outnumber them, but if they eat too many of us who will be there to perform the myriad occupations prey have? Many of your farmers and grocers are prey, for example. Predators like the taste of fresh, live meat, but they also like the convenience of trains and taxis, places to shop, bars to frequent. Practicality can trump instinct; however, sometimes instinct just wins.

The concrete wall is cold and hard against my back as the three cats form a semicircle around me. They’re hungry, they’re salivating, ears sharply focused and tails twitching. I don’t think they will settle for the packages of mackerel in my shopping bag, mackerel I can only find in the predator district. Almost all the shops in the prey district cater to herbivores, something I technically should be as a bunny. I also shouldn’t like to swim, but...there are times I think I should have been born as a dolphin instead of a bunny. Dolphins don’t have to put up with asshole cats determined to eat them, just sharks and orcas.

“Don’t you look tasty?” one of the cats purrs at me, slitted pupils expanded to almost full round in the dark. My low-light vision is good, but the cats have me beaten. If I was close enough to the train station to run for it I would; because eating a prey in the station would cause a disruption to train service as well as inconvenience to others, it is one of the few truly safe areas. Punishment for those lapses is swift and exacting: a predator will lose a great deal of face for their lack of self-control as well as suffer financial burdens and social pressure at work or school.

A low, guttural growl, one that vibrates up my spine in a shiver, thunders without preamble into the alley. The cats tense and hiss, not liking the challenge that permeates the air. “Leave him,” a voice barks, matching the growl in intensity and depth. Another canine growl shakes the alleyway, the fierce command in it enough to subdue the cats. “He’s my prey now.” The shadows seem to bunch and merge, resolving into a huge figure.

Hulking. There’s really no other word for him. Black ears pointed and pricked, bushy tail barely visible, he’s a mountain wearing skin and walking on two legs. The scent hits me and I revise upward from ‘dog’ to ‘wolf’. Wolves are the most dangerous of the predators, aggressive and dominant and ruthless. This one is all of those rolled into a musky-smelling giant with sharp teeth on display and throat vibrating in that same growl.

The cats scatter, annoyed feline tails lashing as they dart out of the alleyway, leaving me alone with the wolf. Cowards. I’m not thrilled at the idea of being torn into pieces (especially without eating the mackerel I bought today, it looked so tasty), but I’m not going to run away. It wouldn’t do me any good. By the length of the wolf’s legs, he’d have me in three strides; bunnies are supposed to be fast but I’m far more a fish out of water when I try to sprint. Another tick in that ‘should have been a dolphin’ column.

One of my ears, the right, flops down over my eye. Lazy ear. There’s a sharp spike in the wolf’s scent and something about it irritates me, as if it’s running sandpaper over my skin. I push the offending ear out of the way, glaring up and up at him. “Are you going to huff and puff and blow my house down?”

The growl hiccups into...something else, something I might call a laugh if any of this was funny. “You’re a bunny, not a pig,” he points out in a gruff tone of voice that has my tail in full fluff.

“Oh Grandmother,” I reply in fluent sarcasm, “what big teeth you have.”

His breath is hot and wolfy, stirring my ears and my hair. There’s just enough light to make out the shallow-sea color of his eyes, his teeth parting in a disdainful smile. “The better to eat you with, my dear.”

Well, what do you know? An educated wolf. Apex predators don’t always bother with education, especially on things like folk tales from outside Japan. Studying is beneath you when you can simply threaten or kill for whatever you want, they say, but there’s something different about this one.

Nevertheless, it seems a waste of time to be too curious about the one who’s soon to be sucking the meat from my bones, so I lean my head back in passive defiance, exposing my neck and the pulse flickering at its juncture. “Then do what you want. Eat me,” I murmur, closing my eyes and accepting my fate.

He leans closer, bracketing me against the wall with his bulk,  _kabedon_ -style, and my eyes fly open. I’m not tiny, but his size seems to dwarf me, all shoulders and thick muscles and heavy, predator-stinky presence that overwhelms. One callused hand tilts my chin down so he can meet my gaze, thumb drawing back and forth across my lower lip; I have the strangest urge to bite him, just to see what he’ll do. “You will be my emergency food supply. I will feed you until you are nice and fat...and then I will eat you.” He swallows hard, his chiseled face puckering into a frown sure to give him a headache. “You wouldn’t be much of a meal now, all bones and skin,” he adds, gaze cutting sharply from mine.

The wolf shoves himself away from the wall, scrubbing his knuckles across his lips and breathing hard. His massive shoulders scrunch up and he turns back to me, nose twitching. “Is that  _fish_?” he demands as he snatches the bag from me, and I wonder what kind of wolf he must be to have only now noticed the mackerel. Even wrapped up, they are fragrant and delicious. “You’re going to need a lot more than fish to get fat. We’re going back to the store,” he announces, slinging my shopping bag over his shoulder. “Here.”

He won’t look at me, but one hand is held out in clear demand for mine. A car turns down the nearest street, treating my eyes to a flash of light and the tops of reddened cheeks, his wolf ears twitching to monitor my movements. “I-It’s not safe for you to be out alone. Someone might eat you. If you’re touching me, you’ll be safe.”

_Oh. I see…._

I place my hand in his, feel his fingers tightening around mine as if they need reassurance I haven’t run away or been eaten by someone else. He doesn’t know I am not about to leave without my mackerel; they were the best in the store and I’m told I am a grumpy bunny if I don’t get my fish. Besides, the big bad wolf doesn’t truly want to eat me; the nervous tremble of his palm against mine says something altogether different.

He leads me out of the alley and towards the lights of the market, still aglow at nearly ten at night. Everything in the prey district has long since closed, but the night is vibrant and active on the predator streets. Several turn and sniff the air as we pass, but as he said, his presence keeps any others at bay.

As we walk, I wonder if I should tell him that bunny-metabolism makes it almost impossible for me to gain weight and I’m about as ‘fat’ as I will ever get. The light reflects in his ocean eyes, pools in the deep hollows of angular cheekbones, and I decide that those are words that aren’t worth saying. He’ll either figure it out on his own or he won’t, somewhere in his quest to make me fat and eatable. I know we’ll be stuck together for a good long time.

I’ve never had a pet wolf before. I think I’m going to like it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at [mienaihane](http://mienaihane.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!
> 
> [My precious](http://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyscorp/pseuds/snarkyscorp) and I have a little headcanons blog now at [futurefishsticks](http://futurefishsticks.tumblr.com/) which includes more bunny Haru and wolf Sousuke. Please check it out if you'd like more of this universe!


End file.
